Casanova and the Night Time Wanderer
by the0voice0from0above
Summary: AU: Castiel has been lusting after Dean for years but he's never been able to talk to him properly. Every time he tries, he's a stuttering blushing mess, so when Castiel accidentally finds Dean sleepwalking he takes the opportunity to talk to him like he's always wanted to. Warnings: Too sweet romance. OOC. Castiel is 16 and Dean is 17. Spoilers for "Cujo" by Stephen King.


_Casanova and the Night Time Wanderer_

_Summary: Castiel has been lusting after Dean for years but he's never been able to talk to him properly. Every time he tries, he's a stuttering blushing mess, so when Castiel accidentally finds Dean sleepwalking he takes the opportunity to talk to him like he's always wanted to._

_Warnings: Too sweet romance. OOC. Castiel is 16 and Dean is 17. Spoilers for "Cujo" by Stephen King._

___Also available in PDF form. Send me a PM._  


::-===-::

Dean Winchester was the bane of Castiel's existence. He was a constant presence in Castiel's life that he both loved and loathed. Like a pathetic moth fluttering to a flame he was drawn to Dean in such an excruciatingly obvious way that not only was the entire school aware of his obsession, he was mocked because of it.

Whenever Dean visited the Novak residence, which was regularly, to spend time with Gabriel, Castiel drank Dean's presence in like he had been starved of it. He was a drug addict waiting for his next fix, shaky and jittery before Dean arrived and riding a high when Dean was there. One whiff of Dean's cologne had his cock rock hard and aching.

Castiel was sixteen so maybe it was expected but, if he was honest, if he analysed it, placed it on a glass slide and slipped it under a microscope, he knew it was pathetic. Not that he needed such an in depth examination to come to that conclusion but he liked to think he was thorough.

Dean, in Castiel's eyes, was perfection, his ultimate fantasy and reality rolled into a delicious green eyed, plump lipped smooth voiced package.

And the worst and best thing about his obsession? Dean was oblivious.

Despite the whole school cracking jokes about his blatant attraction, Dean genuinely thought Castiel was straight which most likely had something to do with the fact that he had inadvertently walked in on Castiel jerking off to one of Gabriel's naughty girl magazines and had ever since assumed that Castiel's flustered and stuttering nature was simply because he was shy.

In reality, Castiel had actually been pleasuring himself to a photo of Dean shirtless at a pool party and had used Gabriel's magazine to cover himself up when Dean had abruptly entered.

The photo had been pinned to Gabriel's notice board, surrounded by numerous other images of his friends at parties and events Castiel hadn't been invited to. The sight of Dean looking so gorgeous and relaxed and _wet_ and standing in the sun had brought Castiel's cock to immediate attention. He had been so lust driven it hadn't even seemed like a significant factor that he was jerking off in his brother's bedroom.

As mortifying at it had been to be caught rubbing one out, Castiel was glad it had happened because it was the first time he had ever seen Dean blush bright red. It was made all the sweeter for the fact that Dean didn't say a word about what he had found Castiel doing to anyone, not even to Gabriel, for which Castiel was eternally grateful. The closest thing he had ever come to mentioning the incident was after someone had made a passing comment about Castiel admiring Dean's chest and Dean had jokingly said, "I don't think my boobs are big enough for Cas."

So Dean thought he was straight and that was fine with Castiel. It made it easier to feel less pathetic when he blushed and stuttered his way through a conversation knowing that Dean wasn't aware of his misguided, unrequited attraction.

The door to Castiel's bedroom swung open, cracking into the side of his wardrobe. "Cassy, I'm going out." His brother frowned when he caught sight of Castiel's glare. "What?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed even further. "There's a hole in my wardrobe."

"Uhh, _yeah_, that's so you can put clothes in and take clothes out," he said slowly as though Castiel was stupid. He threw himself down in Castiel's swivel computer chair and began spinning in a circle. "It's called a door. I figure it's a necessity, you know?"

"I meant –"

Gabriel waved a hand, flippantly. "No one cares. Anyway, I'm going out," he said, "and Dean should be here in a bit so if I'm not back by then just tell him I've gone to get beer for Bela's shindig."

Castiel's heart thumped erratically as it usually did at the mention of Gabriel's best friend. He grumbled to himself and lifted the book in front of his face, focusing on the text and not reading a word of it. "Why can't _you _tell him?"

"Cell phone's broke." Castiel didn't even have to see the shrug to know it was there. "The screen's cracked."

"Did you try to take a picture of yourself?" muttered Castiel, staring at the page while his mind floated off to Dean.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" said Gabriel. The book was ripped from Castiel's grasp.

"Gabriel!" He reached for it but his brother wheeled back from the bed, out of range.

"What's this? Gay porn?" Gabriel chuckled, studying the front cover.

"Yes, because Douglas Adams is renowned for his erotic gay literature," snapped Castiel sarcastically. "There are no pictures in it, anyway, so you might as well give it back since you can't read!"

"Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? Hitchhiker porn, Cassy? You kinky bitch." Gabriel grinned.

Castiel just scowled. His brother tended to get bored if he couldn't elicit enough of a reaction and like clockwork Gabriel rolled his eyes, flipping the book onto the bed, pages creasing, as he stood up. "Whatever. Tell Dean to wait in my room when he gets here."

"Maybe I won't answer the door," said Castiel and picked up his book, straightening out the pages carefully.

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, sure." He grabbed the door knob and drew it closed until only his face was visible through the gap, smirking at Castiel like a sadistic hyena. "We _both _know you'll be jerking off in here all night to the sound of Dean's voice and you don't want to give up that little pleasure now do you, Cassie?"

Castiel's book hit the door instead of Gabriel's face like he'd intended. It wouldn't have been so offensive if it hadn't have been so pathetically true.

::-===-::

Sometime later, thirty seven minutes to be exact, there was a knock at the front door and Castiel, who had been too nervous to do anything since the moment Gabriel had left him alone in the house, jolted in shock.

_Dean._

Castiel licked his lips, scrubbed a sweating hand through his hair and tried to walk down the stairs with some semblance of poise. His stomach was flip-flopping, twisting and turning, his heart galloping at its usual speed when Dean was near.

As he approached the door he could see Dean's blurred silhouette through the patterned glass. Swallowing hard, he touched the cool metal of the handle and twisted.

"Hey, Cas," said Dean quietly. He always spoke in docile tones to Castiel like he was talking to a mouse or something that would spook easily. Dean was smiling; a soft smile that Castiel had seen many times in the past and sometimes dared hope was affectionate.

"Hi – Hello, um, Dean," breathed Castiel, trying not to deviate from Dean's gorgeous green eyes to the shirt he was wearing which was stretched across what Castiel _knew _to be a toned chest.

He could already smell Dean's cologne and Castiel's cock twitched. _God help him._

With the regularity in which Dean visited he should be used to it, Castiel shouldn't be a shuddering, horny wreck every time Gabriel's friend arrived but he was and unfortunately it didn't look like that was about to change anytime soon.

"Gabriel in?" asked Dean obviously still waiting for Castiel to invite him in.

"Uh... yes, I mean no, he's..." Where was Gabriel? He couldn't think. "Beer, he went to get beer," breathed Castiel finally, cursing himself. "He said you can wait in his, uh, his room." He blushed and moved aside.

"Oh, right, thanks," said Dean, stepping over the threshold into the warmth of the house. Their shoulders brushed as he did so and Castiel tried not to moan at the rush of heat that washed through him and just like that, his dick was hard.

Good grief, he was pathetic.

"Is your sister out?" asked Dean conversationally.

After their parents died, Anna had taken over as their guardian. She was a good sister and parent and had no qualms about punishing the younger Novaks should they step out of line. It was probably the reason Gabriel had chosen the night that she was absent to illegally purchase beer for a get together later in the week.

Castiel closed the door and turned to Dean, glad his t-shirt was baggy enough to hide his otherwise very blatant arousal. "Yes, she went out with a..." He cleared his throat. "A-a couple of friends." Why did he have to sound like a complete moron whenever he spoke to Dean? Why couldn't be speak normally?

Dean bobbed his head and smiled. "Cool."

He was so beautiful... Castiel couldn't help but stare. What would it be like to kiss him? Hold him? Up close, his scent would be overwhelming. What would Dean _taste _like? His cock pulsed again with want.

It suddenly occurred to Castiel that they were simply standing there looking at each other. In silence.

_Say something! _

_Quickly! _

_Before Dean thinks you're boring!_

"Gabriel thought I was reading gay porn," he blurted out. Castiel's inner self mentally took a bullet to the head. He was going to die a virgin.

Dean's face went blank for a second and then he chuckled hesitantly. "Uh... why? Does he read a lot of gay porn?"

He was both relieved and pleased that Dean hadn't slapped him in the face for such a stupid statement. "Um, m-maybe he's in the closet," joked Castiel, smiling weakly.

Dean's laugh was real this time. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

In a habit so ingrained it was impossible to break, Castiel tilted his head like a dog. "You are?"

"Uh..." The question seemed to throw Dean for a moment. His cheeks tinged pink and Castiel suddenly panicked and wondered if perhaps Dean had a crush on Gabriel. "Well, let's put it this way, Gabe's had more girls than I've had dinners."

Castiel wasn't surprised. Gabriel was seventeen, confident, popular and funny – it was no wonder he was getting laid and Castiel wasn't. Maybe he should start picking out cat names, pondered Castiel, for future reference for when he's old and grey and hopelessly alone.

"So... it's safe to say he's straight," Dean finished with a bashful grin. "Plus, Gabe has always said that if he was gay he'd be," air quotes, "on my ass in a second." He rolled his beautiful eyes. "Who says I'd want him anyway?"

Hope sparked hot and tingly in his chest. "You ... don't...like him, um, like that?"

Dean appeared genuinely shocked. "Are you serious? Hell no!" He laughed. "Gabe's great but..." He shook his head, looking away, "definitely not my type."

It was on the tip of Castiel's tongue to ask who his type was but he refrained. The conversation was a minefield already without throwing in his own potentially disastrous questions. No need to humiliate himself even more than he already had. It _did _give him something to think about however. As far as Castiel knew, Dean was single and still very much gay. To receive any information about Dean's love life no matter how miniscule was like gold to Castiel.

Could he get anymore pathetic?

"Okay, well... I'm going to go to my room now...to...to," _To jerk off. _"To read!" he exclaimed suddenly as though Dean could hear his thoughts. "To...um, to read," he repeated, flushing bright red. _Excellent Castiel, you're well on your way to becoming the craziest, creepiest person Dean has ever met. _

Whether Dean was outstandingly polite and therefore chose not to acknowledge Castiel's bizarre behaviour or Dean just hadn't noticed, Castiel didn't know. Dean smiled at him though, like nothing had happened and said, "Sure, I'll wait in Gabe's room."

::-===-::

After a very brief session of tugging his dick and splattering his hand with come, Castiel was sitting on his bed, socked foot tapping his mattress continuously, knee bobbing. Perhaps he could talk to Dean for a bit? Just until his brother came back. Keep him company. Dean was alone in there after all, doing nothing. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he wouldn't mind a little (painful) conversation? And just maybe he was glad of the break from Gabriel's creepy little brother.

Castiel sighed. His foot stopped bouncing and he curled up into a ball on his side. Why couldn't he just talk to Dean like a normal human being? Why did he have to be such a freak?

A quiet bell like sound broke through his progressive miserable thoughts. He lifted his head off the pillow, squinted at the screen of his laptop, which was sitting on his desk, and groaned. There were three more alerts that whistled from his computer before Castiel finally pulled himself up and knee walked across his double bed. He slumped into his desk chair, resting his chin in his palm and clicked on the flashing MSN box.

**Chuck(le): Finished Cujo.**

**Chuck(le): It's grim. **

**Chuck(le): Gory and grim.**

**Chuck(le): Is it wrong that I was rooting for the dog? **

Castiel smirked, typing a quick reply.

**Casanova: Yes. Cujo was the spawn of Satan. **

**Chuck(le): Hmm... more like an avenging angel with slobber and bad breath. I think he killed everyone that needed to die. **

**Casanova: What about the boy? He was innocent.**

**Chuck(le): Technically, Cujo didn't kill Tad. **

**Chuck(le): The mother did.**

Castiel rolled his eyes.

**Casanova: If we're going to get into technicalities, I think I should point out that if it wasn't for Cujo hovering by the car, the boy would have survived.**

**Chuck(le): Well, okay, it could have been karma. The mother wasn't innocent. Cujo was just dealing out her punishment.**

**Casanova: I don't think the price of an affair constitutes the death of a child, Chuck. **

**Chuck(le): Possibly. **

**Chuck(le): Cujo brought Vic and Donna together in the end though, didn't he?**

**Casanova: So now you're calling the dog Cupid?**

**Chuck(le): I just think he wasn't all that bad.**

**Casanova: He gutted a police officer.**

**Chuck(le): Accidental.**

**Casanova: Intentional.**

**Chuck(le): *sigh* Ever the contrarian. **

**Casanova: I only appear to be a contrarian when talking to you because you're always wrong. **

**Chuck(le): I resent that.**

Castiel grinned, his fingers poised above the keys ready to reply but Chuck beat him to it.

**Chuck(le): I was right about Dean wasn't I?**

His stomach squirmed. "Here we go again," muttered Castiel.

**Casanova: Yes, you guessed correctly that Dean was gay.**

**Casanova: As did most of the school.**

**Chuck(le): Except you.**

Castiel sighed.

**Chuck(le): Still hopelessly in love with him?**

**Casanova: Lust would be a more accurate term.**

**Chuck(le): You should ask him out.**

**Casanova: No.**

**Chuck(le): Why? Dean hasn't dated anyone in a while. Maybe he's looking for a boyfriend.**

**Casanova: No.**

**Chuck(le): At least tell him you're gay.**

**Chuck(le): He might ask you out then.**

**Casanova: Do you seriously think Dean Winchester would be even remotely interested in Gabriel's younger dorkier brother?**

**Chuck(le): Yes! **

**Chuck(le): And you're not dorky. **

**Chuck(le): You're just a bit weird.**

Castiel laughed.

**Casanova: Maybe you should date me then.**

**Chuck(le): Unfortunately, Castiel, I don't like penis.**

**Chuck(le): I like my own. **

**Chuck(le): But no one else's.**

**Casanova: Well, it's certainly a relief to know you have a penis. For a moment there I thought perhaps the rumours were true and you did, in fact, have a vagina.**

**Chuck(le): I'm not the one with a school girl crush. **

**Casanova: Touché.**

**Chuck(le): On a more serious note, Castiel, you should tell Dean you're gay. If he knew who knows what could happen.**

**Casanova: And how exactly do you expect me to tell him? **

**Chuck(le): Send him a message over Facebook.**

**Casanova: Saying what? "Hello Dean, I enjoy reading, wildlife documentaries and sucking penis. Any thoughts?"**

**Chuck(le): No.**

**Chuck(le): You should say cock instead of penis. It sounds sexier.**

**Chuck(le): At least I think it does. **

**Casanova: Why is a cock called a cock? A penis looks nothing like a male chicken.**

**Chuck(le): Mine does. And it's called a cock because it rises early every morning. Haha.**

**Casanova: You're a comic genius.**

**Chuck(le): I know.**

**Chuck(le): I think SHAPOW! works better than cock anyway.**

**Casanova: I don't think so.**

**Chuck(le): Why not?**

**Casanova: Let's place it in some erotic literature... "She could feel it, throbbing and hot through the thin material of her dress. His huge SHAPOW!"**

**Chuck(le): I think it works.**

**Casanova: Maybe you should rethink your career choice as a writer.**

**Chuck(le): And maybe you should ask Dean out.**

**Chuck(le): Is he at your house now?**

**Casanova: Yes... He's in Gabriel's bedroom. **

**Casanova: Alone.**

**Chuck(le): Alone?!**

**Chuck(le): Get on it! Go talk to him!**

**Casanova: What part of, "I sound like a gibbering idiot when I talk to Dean Winchester" do you not understand?**

**Chuck(le): *sigh* you're missing an opportunity, Castiel. **

"I don't care," he muttered to the screen. Chuck had been urging him to ask Dean on a date since the moment he'd found out about Castiel's crush. It was irritating and he wished Chuck would understand that Dean would _never _be interested in someone like Castiel. Dean was too handsome, too popular... The situation was hopeless.

He heard the front door open and slam shut and then the very distinct thumping of Gabriel's feet as he ran up the stairs back to his own room. Castiel's gaze cut to the clock in the corner of his desktop and when he saw it, he tsked under his breath. It had been nearly an hour and a half since his brother had left. He listened out for Dean's voice but it was muffled and then Gabriel's obnoxious music began to play, drowning it out completely.

**Chuck(le): You should change your Facebook status.**

**Chuck(le): Actually not your status. Your profile. Change your "interested in" section to "men". **

**Casanova: I don't wish to out myself via Facebook. **

**Chuck(le): Castiel, everyone knows you're gay except Dean.**

**Casanova: They don't know for sure. They only suspect.**

**Chuck(le): And they're right.**

**Casanova: Yes, but that's not the point.**

**Chuck(le): Yes it is. **

Castiel rolled his eyes.

**Chuck(le): Anyway, I forgot to tell you. I've fixed my laptop.**

**Casanova: How? I thought it was dead.**

**Chuck(le): It is but I managed to save its soul...**

**Casanova: I presume you're talking about the hard drive? **

**Chuck(le): Yup.**

**Casanova: Did you rip it out and plug it into your pc?**

**Chuck(le): Yup.**

**Casanova: At least it isn't all lost. What did you do with the laptop?**

**Chuck(le): It's fried but I'm saving it. You never know when you might need a screwed up Toshiba at your disposal. **

There was a light knock at his door as he was typing a reply. "Come in," called Castiel, distractedly.

He still had his eyes on the laptop screen and his back to the door as it opened so when he heard Dean's voice, he nearly fell off his chair in shock. Castiel spun around, staring wide eyed at Dean who was standing hesitantly in the doorway.

"Sorry, Cas, I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"No, um, it's – I wasn't..." Dean Winchester was in his _bedroom._ Even though Dean had been coming over since he was little, he had never stepped foot in Castiel's room; at least, not on his took a moment to appreciate that before his gaze flitted to his unmade bed and the memory of what he had been doing only an hour previous flashed into his mind. Cheeks flooding with heat, he tried to school his expression into something that didn't resemble guilt and humiliation. "It's okay. Uh, what did you, um, want?"

Dean grimaced; it wasn't a look Castiel saw a lot of when it came to Dean. "Gabriel's really drunk. I've been trying to get him down from the window but he's hanging on."

Embarrassment momentarily forgotten, he exclaimed, "He's drunk?!" Before Dean could answer, however, he stomped past him, cursing, and threw Gabriel's bedroom door open to find his brother dressed in only a pair of grey boxers and hanging half in, half out of the window, legs flailing. If Anna came home early there was going to be hell to pay.

"Gabriel!" snapped Castiel over the persistent din of horrible music blasting out of overly large speakers. He slammed his brother's laptop closed with more force than was absolutely necessary and mercifully the noise ceased. "Gabriel, get down! Why is he drunk? I don't understand," he asked Dean. "I thought he went to _buy _beer not drink it."

Dean shrugged. "He was like this when he came in."

"Gabriel!" shouted Castiel. "You need to sober up. If Anna sees –"

"AHOY THERE, MRS. MARTINS!" yelled Gabriel at the top of his lungs. Through the glass, Castiel could see he was waving frantically to their elderly neighbour down on the pavement. She threw him a disgusted look before urging her Chihuahua on and heading out of sight. Unlike most women past their prime she liked to walk at night but she never went far; down the street and back again, "Prince isn't very strong, you see, and the sun is too bright."

"Gabriel!" hissed Castiel. "Get down!" He turned to Dean, taking hold of his brother's wriggling ankle. "Can you hold the other and we'll pull him out?"

He wanted to spend a moment longer marvelling at the fact that he had managed to say a full, uninterrupted sentence to Dean but Gabriel was singing (_"Row, row, row your boat gently down the streaam!") _and not only was it extremely irritating, his brother wouldn't be the only one to get punished if the police showed up.

"Sure," said Dean, his lips twitching as he moved behind Gabriel and caught his ankle.

Castiel sighed. "Don't laugh. This is serious."

"It is," said Dean solemnly.

"He could get injured."

"He could."

Their gazes caught and they burst out laughing. Castiel's heart was thumping like he had been running in a marathon, his stomach was twisting with nerves and he was fairly certain his face resembled a tomato he was blushing that hard, but he was with Dean and he wasn't making an embarrassment out of himself for _once _in his _life_!

Of course that would be the moment Gabriel chose to shake his leg free from Castiel's loose grasp and slam his foot into his nose.

"Oh, shit!" exclaimed Dean as Castiel stumbled, tripped over his own feet and rolled backwards over the bed onto the floor.

The flash of pain had been sharp and hot. He hadn't heard a crunch (_thank god) _but his nose was throbbing and there was something warm dripping down onto his lip.

"Shit!" Dean's gorgeous face came into view. "Cas, are you okay?"

Castiel groaned, using the heel of his hand to check for blood. When his wrist came away smeared with red, his face set like concrete. "I'm going to kill him," he growled.

Dean chuckled, a hint of relief in his tone. "Give him time and he might do it for you," he said, holding out a wide hand to help him up. Swallowing thickly, Castiel looked at Dean and then at the offered hand. He took it and, as his fingers slid along the warm, rough palm, Castiel had to fight a shiver, his earlier arousal coming back full force.

Dean didn't seem to notice and pulled him easily to his feet. Castiel mumbled his thanks, eyes lowered, dabbing at his bloodied nose with the end of his sleeve.

"I can..."

Castiel looked up and noticed Dean's cheeks were pink.

"I can do that," said Dean, hesitantly, lifting his own sleeve covered hand to Castiel's face.

He would have objected, said that it was pointless Dean getting his shirt covered in blood too but he couldn't speak. Dean was so close and warm that it literally tied a knot around Castiel's vocal chords.

Gently and so carefully he had to wonder if Dean thought Castiel was made of glass, he cupped Castiel's face and wiped the blood away from under his nose, the rough material dragging over the sensitive skin of his upper lip. It was careful and sweet and Castiel was beginning to worry his heart was going to beat its way out his chest. He stared at him, utterly absorbed in the way Dean's gaze would flicker shyly from Castiel's eyes to his mouth. The thumb of his other hand was brushing tentatively back and forth across Castiel's jaw and when Dean lowered his other hand, his eyes dropped too, to Castiel's lips.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat. Surely Dean wasn't going to -

"GAHH!"

There was a deafening crash, loud enough to send the resident dogs of the street into a frenzy of howls and wails, piercing the quiet night air.

One look out of the window told him all he needed to know – Gabriel had fallen and was sprawled out half embedded in the windscreen of his sister's Volvo. The repercussions would have been awful anyway but they were probably made worse for the fact that Anna was still sitting in it when it happened.

::-===-::

**Chuck(le): How long are you grounded for?**

**Casanova: Only a week. **

**Chuck(le): Unlucky.**

**Casanova: Gabriel's sentence is worse. He was given a month and he has to get a part time job to pay for the car to be fixed. **

**Casanova: Oh, and he broke his wrist too.**

**Chuck(le): I suppose that means you won't be seeing Dean anytime soon.**

He wished Chuck didn't continuously feel the need to point out things Castiel already knew. He had spent a depressing morning thinking about the fact that school was out for the summer and now that Gabriel was grounded the likelihood of seeing Dean in person again for at least four weeks was remote.

He minimized the conversation box and opened up Facebook – the place he always went when he was missing Dean. The page loaded and he was greeted with an image of Gabriel sitting in Anna's windscreen, looking dazed. It had been posted by Dean an hour ago and had over a hundred comments and likes, including, "I ROCK!" by Gabriel himself.

Castiel scrolled down and read through some of the banter. Everyone spoke to Dean so easily, like it was nothing, it made Castiel jealous and again he cursed himself for not being able to talk like a normal person around him.

With a sigh, he clicked on Dean's name and was taken to his profile page. He gave the news feed a cursory glance, noticing a few comments from flirty girls who still didn't understand that Dean was _gay_, and clicked on his photos.

He moved through them slowly, feeling his usual dull heart ache throb in his chest. On the fifth page were the pool party pictures with Dean looking incredibly sexy in all of them. He opened up one of his favourites where Dean was leaning back on his elbows, shirtless, legs dangling in the pool. The photo quality was so good he could see the beads of water resting on Dean's sun-kissed skin. His dirty blonde hair was even yellower in the bright light.

Castiel shifted in his seat; he could just imagine how amazing it would be to lick off those droplets... maybe... run his tongue over Dean's nipples...

He expelled a pained groan, muffled from his hand covering his mouth, using the heel of his hand to press against his erection.

Biting his lip, he checked his door was closed and listened out for anyone on the stairs. He could hear Anna in the kitchen down below and there was music playing quietly in Gabriel's bedroom.

He figured he was safe enough, especially with his back to the door.

Castiel shoved his hands down his pants, pulling out his cock and staring fixedly at Dean's face and body while he jerked off fast and rough. He leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs, eyes half closed and face flushed. Panting hard, bit down the urge to moan as he came in record time, spilling over his hand and stomach.

The tissue he used to clean up with was rough on his skin and it reminded him of the previous night when Dean had wiped Castiel's bloodied nose. At the time it had _looked _as though Dean had wanted to kiss him but in retrospect, it was more likely Castiel's over active imagination because why would someone like _Dean _want to kiss someone like _Castiel_? It wasn't plausible.

Post orgasm and feeling guilty for masturbating to photos of Dean, Castiel found it laughable that he had even considered it a possibility.

::-===-::

The week after passed slowly, the majority of days spent arguing with his brother. Castiel stayed in his room for most of the time. He would like to think that he didn't waste more than half of that on Facebook mooning over Dean but he didn't like to lie to himself.

During another incessant viewing of Dean's profile, a MSN box popped up at the bottom of the screen, flashing orange.

**Sam: Hi Castiel, I'm still having problems with that RAM.**

Sam, Dean's brother, had added Castiel to his messenger list after Castiel had helped fix his computer through giving advice over Facebook. They hadn't become friends as such, more like online acquaintances, but Sam was smart for a thirteen year old and when they did talk it was usually to do with computers or an upgrade Sam had attempted on his pc and it had gone wrong which was always interesting for Castiel because he loved to fix things.

**Casanova: Hi Sam, the 1G DDR2? What's wrong with it?**

**Sam: Boot disk failure. **

**Casanova: I thought you installed it and it worked?**

**Sam: It did work but I switched slots so I could fit in another card and now it won't boot. **

**Casanova: Hmm..**

**Sam: I went into BIOS and it recognises it as 1G but that's it, nothing.**

**Casanova: Were you properly grounded when you installed it?**

**Sam: Definitely. I even tried taking out the new RAM and putting the old back in but that didn't work either.**

**Casanova: It could be something simple. Did you knock the cable to your hard drive loose as you were doing it? **

**Sam: I didn't think of that... 0_0**

**Sam: I'll check. **

While Sam was testing his computer, Castiel continued to surf the internet, looking for possible answers to his RAM problem. Normally, installing RAM didn't affect the hard drive so it was strange that on this occasion it had.

A bell sounded and the messenger box began flashing again.

"That was quick," muttered Castiel, clicking on it.

**Sam: Hey Cas, it's Dean**

Castiel's heart leapt and thudded into overdrive.

Dean?

Dean was on Sam's MSN?

Was it really Dean or was Sam playing a prank on him? Castiel honestly didn't think that it would be something Sam would be likely to do because he was kind and compassionate just like his brother.

It had to be real. It had to be Dean.

He stared at the screen barely breathing. His eyes dropped to the keyboard and he very deliberately pressed the key "H" and the key "I" and "ENTER".

**Casanova: hi**

**Sam: Haha, "Casanova"? Do I want to know?**

Castiel chuckled, nervous fingers typing out a reply.

**Casanova: It's a running joke on here.**

**Sam: Because you're a womaniser? ;)**

**Casanova: I think we both know I'm as much a womaniser as Gabriel is computer literate. **

**Sam: Wow, if we're gonna use that analogy you might as well be gay! Haha**

There was an awful twinge in his gut at the word "gay". He knew Dean was just taking the joke further and meant nothing by it but Castiel couldn't help but feel as though he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He didn't want to deny that he was gay but he didn't want to tell the truth either, especially not while Dean was using Sam's MSN.

He was relieved when the long silence in the conversation was broken.

**Sam: Where's Gabriel by the way? I know his cell is fucked but he hasn't been on Facebook for a week.**

Discomfort forgotten, Castiel grinned with unbridled wickedness.

**Casanova: Anna confiscated his laptop when she found three crates of beer under his bed.**

**Casanova: I'll admit I laughed.**

**Sam: Haha, I would have too. How's the nose?**

Subconsciously Castiel scrunched it and it stung.

**Casanova: It's fine. **

**Sam: You didn't break it then?**

**Casanova: If I did, Gabriel would be suffering from the same injury. **

**Sam: Physical violence, Cas? That doesn't sound like you!**

Castiel couldn't contain his chuckle because Dean was right, Castiel couldn't even _imagine _throwing a punch, let alone actually doing it.

**Casanova: It's possible I have a violent streak that you're unaware of.**

**Sam: Ohh, I get it... you're a bad boy, huh? **

**Casanova: I could be.**

**Sam: Haha, suuure.**

**Casanova: I sense scepticism... **

**Sam: That's because there's a lot of it.**

**Casanova: There shouldn't be.**

**Sam: I guess you'll have to prove it to me.**

**Casanova: Prove what to you?**

**Sam: That you're a bad boy ;)**

Something swooped in Castiel's tummy. He had the distinct impression that Dean was flirting with him but he couldn't be sure since he had never, in all his life, flirted with anyone before and consequently had nothing to compare it to. There was also a lingering doubt, like an itch in the back of his mind, that it wasn't actually Dean he was talking to. It _sounded_ like Dean but Castiel had never been in a conversation with him – bar this one – long enough to be a credible judge.

**Sam: Gotta go, Cas, Sammy's trying to kick me off.**

The depressive cloud Dean's message brought hadn't fully set in before he added:

**Sam: Can I add you on MSN so I've got a way of contacting Gabe?**

The reason was so plausible he didn't even bother to hope that it was just an excuse to add Castiel as a contact. He grumbled and rubbed his hands over his face vigorously until his skin was tingly and hot. It was ridiculous he still had hopes that Dean would ever like him more than a friend.

Come to think of it, Castiel wasn't even a friend to Dean. He was just Gabriel's younger dorkier brother. He was nothing.

**Sam: Cas? You there?**

**Casanova: Sorry. Yes. You can add me.**

**Sam: Great, thanks :)**

**Sam: I'll see you around, kay?**

Castiel's cheek was mashed into his palm, elbow resting on the table, aching because of the way he was slumped. He sighed heavily, pushed three keys with his index finger and clicked send.

**Casanova: Bye**

**Sam: Hey, Castiel, sorry about my brother.**

Castiel didn't even bother replying; he just stared at the screen. Why was it, that Dean had the power to make Castiel either ridiculously happy or horribly miserable? Why couldn't he simply be pleased that he had spoken to Dean coherently?

_Because I'll always want more_, answered his mind.

And wasn't that a depressing thought?

**Sam: You were right, I'd knocked the wiring. I've got to say, I'm REALLY happy it was something as simple as that, I thought I might have fried the motherboard.**

When Castiel didn't answer again Dean's brother said:

**Sam: Thanks for your help, Castiel.**

And only because he was feeling guilty for ignoring Sam he replied.

**Casanova: No problem.**

::-===-::

The freshly formed cut on Castiel's lip was torn open again as he chewed on it, digging his teeth into the soft, sore flesh, tugging and then licking over it. He was staring at the green circle beside Dean's name, butterflies whizzing around his stomach. Dean had added Castiel to MSNalmost immediately. He'd waited all day for Dean to appear online and now that he was, Castiel had no clue what to say. It was just as difficult as talking to him in person. If Dean had initiated the conversation then it wouldn't have been so bad because Castiel would have known for a fact that Dean had wanted to talk to him but he hadn't, which left Castiel staring forlornly at Dean's name indecisive as to what to do. He hovered the cursor over it, his finger gently tapping against the laptop.

**Chuck(le): Why don't you compare notes on gay porn?**

**Casanova: It shouldn't surprise you that I'm not going to take you up on that suggestion.**

The small green circle beside Dean's MSN name eventually changed to red and the decision to talk to him was taken out of Castiel's hands.

Ever the night owl, Castiel stayed up long after that, watching YouTube videos and talking to Chuck online. It was three minutes past 2am, the house was silent with Gabriel and Anna asleep, when he saw movement outside his bedroom window.

At the back of the Novak house beyond the boundaries of their yard was a large field owned by no one. In its centre, slightly to the right, was a cluster of dreary looking trees which hid an old, blocked up, stone wishing well with a wooden roof which Castiel and Gabriel had converted into a fort when they were younger.

A few years ago the field used to be filled with kids of all ages, playing games and building whatever they could out of the things they found. The field was a sort of no man's land separating two streets that acted as a dumping ground for the anonymous. Whatever couldn't be dumped legally or inexpensively, tended to find its way onto No Man's Land. There used to be an old washing machine near the end of Castiel's garden that acted as a safe for all his second hand treasures.

But his makeshift locker and anything else half buried in the grassy mud was taken away when a kid lost his foot to a rusted bear trap. The field stayed empty after that.

Castiel flicked his bedroom light off and squinted out into the night, focusing on the figure that was moving leisurely though the dense grass towards the cluster of trees. The way they walked was very familiar and the leather jacket looked just like...

Castiel gasped, his heart setting off at a gallop. Sometimes he wondered, if he didn't have a strong heart, he would have died years ago just by interacting (or attempting to interact) with Dean Winchester.

And it _was _Dean Winchester. Castiel knew him so well he could have spotted Dean a mile away in near darkness. But what was he doing out in No Man's Land? And in the middle of the night?

Castiel bit into his lip, wincing at the sharp sting of pain, before slipping on his sneakers and quietly creeping downstairs. He didn't want to think _too _much about what he was about to do. He was numb from tiredness and that gave him some confidence; not a lot but probably enough to get him outside and find out what Dean was doing out so late.

Silently, he opened the back door, tip-toeing outside into the cool night air and carefully shutting the door behind him.

He set off at a jog, stumbling over the uneven ground as he made his way towards Dean who had just passed through the trees. Castiel was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans but the run had warmed him and dissipated the chill on his arms.

When he reached the cluster of trees, he found Dean leaning over the stone well, doing something strange with his arm. Castiel frowned, edging closer. Dean had one hand on the wooden planks covering the well's mouth while the other was bobbing in midair, almost like he was miming using a hammer.

"Dean?" called Castiel but he didn't answer.

Castiel said his name again, moving to his side and ducking his head to get a better look at his face. Dean's eyes were glazed and his expression was completely blank. It was... surreal and it was then that Castiel noticed Dean wasn't wearing a top, only a pair of sweatpants and a leather jacket. His chest was completely bare and Castiel would have found it inviting if it wasn't so strange. He looked down to make sure Dean actually had something on his feet which he did, his worn boots.

The only possible explanation was that Dean was sleepwalking.

Sleepwalking.

In all the years that he had known Dean, at least ten, he had never heard of him sleepwalking before though, admittedly, Castiel didn't have most lengthy conversations with Dean to be certain of that.

He watched Dean silently tapping away at the well with his invisible hammer and wondered what he was dreaming about. Was he repairing the well or taking it apart?

It was strange being utterly alone with Dean and feeling somewhat at ease – excited, yes, but mostly at ease.

Castiel stared at him with an unashamed intensity, taking advantage of the fact that he was allowed to look without consequence. Dean was painfully handsome; it made his stomach clench. He wanted to run his fingers through his short hair; it would be soft, he knew for sure, feathery to the touch. His palms tingled.

He almost considered doing it but the fear of how Dean would react if he woke up to Castiel groping him in the middle of the night was enough to stomp out the flames of that idea. Then again, Dean appeared to be completely out of it, enraptured as he was with the task at hand.

Was it dangerous to wake a sleepwalker? Castiel didn't know. He had a feeling that it was just a myth but they were outside, it was dark and Dean was only half dressed. It would be a shock to wake up in such a situation.

Castiel chewed on his lip some more, hesitating, and then Dean finally stopped his mute hammering. The teen lowered his arm, put the hammer back in some invisible case, picked the case up and turned away, heading in the direction he had come from.

Castiel stood there for a second before jogging after him. Dean didn't live far away but it would be best to make sure that he arrived home safely.

The night was silent, a kind of eerie, deathly quiet that was made all the more foreboding by the lack of wind. Only the sounds of their footsteps broke the quiet. Walking in the middle of the road next to an unresponsive Dean Winchester gave the night a dreamlike quality. It was as if they were trapped somewhere, half way between a nightmare and a dream.

Castiel hugged himself, rubbing the skin on his arms to generate some warmth. He glanced at Dean. "What are you dreaming about?" whispered Castiel. "What do you think about?" He sighed heavily. Right now, he could tell Dean anything he wanted. He knew he could because he wasn't worrying about a reaction. Dean was fast asleep. His mind was far away, maybe across mountains and seas. Maybe Dean thought he was a blacksmith in a world with dragons and knights. Castiel snorted. "You wouldn't be a blacksmith, would you? You're too cool for that. You'd be a knight." His lips thinned as another wave of self loathing hit him. "No. You wouldn't be dreaming of dragons. You'd be dreaming of something else. You're not as dorky as me. Certainly not as pathetic."

Castiel looked at Dean's glazed, vacant expression, facing forward, eyes barely blinking. "But you'd never tell me I was pathetic. Even if you thought it."

He kicked a stone and it shot across the road, bouncing as it went.

"You're too kind. God, you're so... You make me physically ache, right here." Castiel touched his own chest, gripping his shirt. "Every time I see you it's the same thing, like you've got my heart in your fist and you're squeezing and _squeezing _and I can't breathe or speak or do _anything _at all. I just have to look into your eyes and I'm lost. It's like _I'm _sleepwalking. Only I'm not. I'm awake and embarrassing myself. And your _voice_. It's soft and deep and kind, always kind. You've always been nice to me. I keep telling Chuck I don't love you, that I'm not in that deep, but maybe I am. When I think about looking at you and _not _feeling? It just doesn't seem possible." Castiel shook his head, smiling self deprecatingly. "How depressing. A life resigned to loving the most perfect guy I've ever met and I can't even talk to you."

He made sure Dean entered his house, closing the door behind him, before he set off back home and as he did, there was an unexpected strange sort of relief in his bones as though a weight had lifted off his heart.

::-===-::

The next day, after a quick ravioli dinner, he headed back up to his room with a bowl of cereal soaked in milk. Nothing served as a better snack/desert like a nice bucket of cereal. He set it on his desk, chugging half a pint of orange juice, and sat down at his laptop. Because Castiel was cool – only in an ironic sense, of course – he kept his MSN signed in all day and wasn't surprised to see a flashing orange box in his task bar. Automatically assuming it was Chuck, Castiel wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and maximized it.

It wasn't Chuck.

**Dean: We need to talk about last night.**

The message was sent ten minutes prior. Castiel stared at it with his mouth partially open. His head snapped up to his bedroom ceiling and he clasped his hands together. "Please, _please, _if there's anything up there, _please, _tell me he doesn't remember what I said," begged Castiel.

While he seriously debated throwing his laptop out of the window and claiming ignorance, Dean sent another message.

**Dean: Cas? C'mon man, don't ignore me.**

What was he going to do? If Dean knew how he felt Castiel would never be able to face him again.

Humiliated, Castiel typed out a reply.

**Casanova: Hello, Dean. I'm not ignoring you I was downstairs. **

At least he didn't have to be a good liar on MSN to make it sound convincing.

**Dean: OK. Sorry if I freaked you out last night. I used to sleepwalk a lot as a kid. I thought it had stopped but I guess it hasn't.**

**Casanova: Do you remember what happened?**

Castiel held his breath. He stared at the "Dean is typing a message..." at the bottom of the screen.

**Dean: No**

Castiel exhaled.

**Dean: Not really. Everything before you walked me home is a blur.**

"Oh no..." muttered Castiel. He knew. Dean knew. He dropped his head in his hands. The last thing he wanted was Dean's pity and a list of reasons why he didn't want to date Castiel. After an inconceivable amount of time of mentally chastising himself, he looked up again to find Dean still typing out a message. He couldn't bear it so he signed off.

::-===-::

On a Tuesday night while Anna was out, Castiel was sitting downstairs eating his way through a giant bag of cheap tasting Reese's Pieces and watching a documentary about ants. He hadn't been on MSN in two weeks. Since first discovering MSN he didn't think he'd ever been off it for so long.

"_...this leaf-cutter ant is hauling a leaf more than three times its size back to the nest..."_

He grabbed a handful of candy and was dropping them one at a time into his mouth when he heard the front door open and the exclamations of boisterous greetings. Castiel stopped chewing. He didn't have long to attempt to decipher the individual voices before the living room door opened and Gabriel and a long stream of friends piled inside, throwing themselves down in various places.

Castiel was ushered off his comfortable place in the corner of the sofa by his brother.

"Gabriel!" snapped Castiel indignantly as he was shoved onto the floor. "What – you're grounded! You can't have a party!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Ten people is hardly a party, Cassie," he said over the din of jocund voices.

"Anna is going to kill you if she finds out."

"She said I could have a few friends over to watch the new Bourne film." Gabriel shrugged and tried to snatch the bag of candy out of Castiel's hands but he hung on to it. "Give me one," demanded Gabriel.

"Bourne Ultimatum?" said Castiel and relinquished his hold on the bag. "How did you get that?" He was a huge fan of the Bourne films and had been desperate to watch the final instalment since he had first laid eyes on the trailer.

Emptying half of the candy into his wide open trap, Gabriel muttered, "Pirated copy."

"Are we waiting for Winchester or not?" said one of Gabriel's friends.

Castiel's stomach somersaulted.

"Just play it. He said he'll be over in five," drawled his brother.

Someone turned the lights out and the room fell into darkness, partially lit by the television screen coming to life.

Castiel had to make a decision. He had been studiously avoiding talking to Dean since their conversation on MSN and he still didn't know if he was ready to see him yet. It was mortifying to think that Dean _knew _how Castiel felt. He wished he could go back to the good old days of pining after Dean and thinking it was probably unrequited than having to face a very real rejection. And Castiel _would _have to face it. Sooner or later.

Then again, Castiel supposed a direct rejection would discourage the semi-stalking, _Fatal Attraction_ type obsession he was engaging in.

He allowed himself to fantasise for a moment that his feelings were returned but the thought of Dean proclaiming his love for Castiel was so implausible that it was actually comical in Castiel's own imagination. The only way it could ever be mutual would be if Dean was delusional. And/or had poor eye sight, beer-goggles or had a brief moment of temporary insanity.

Dean was, for lack of a better word, _perfect_. And what was Castiel? What did Castiel have to offer? His blue eyes were quite nice. That was something. But everything else was a mess. His personality and his looks were like something taken from a dork tutorial, _How Not To Be Cool _or _How Not To Have Sex With Anything But Your Hand For The Rest Of Your Life. _

As Castiel settled down on the floor at the back of the room, he tried to brace himself for the inevitable.

::-===-::

Twenty minutes later, Dean arrived. It had been pointless staying for the film because Castiel had been on tenterhooks the entire time; he hadn't taken anything in. When the door opened and Dean stepped inside, Castiel's heart began pounding, beating so hard it was painful. He forced his eyes to stay on the too-bright television screen but his ears were listening over the racket of the film for Dean's greeting to everyone else. Castiel swallowed hard. His palms were sweaty. He heard Dean's footsteps drawing close and he couldn't stop himself from looking up.

Surprisingly, Dean was wearing a soft, v-neck sweater and jeans which were intact and rip-free. His hair was neater, still ruffled but less casual and careless.

Had Dean made an effort to look good? Who was he trying to impress? Or was he reminding Castiel or what he couldn't have?

Dean sat down next to him and all thoughts that had been previously racing through Castiel's mind screeched to a halt. Castiel blinked dumbly as Dean smiled at him. Then, just as Castiel was worried he would spontaneously combust, Dean leaned in, leaned in closer than he ever had before, and whispered in Castiel's ear, "Hi, Casanova."

His voice was like sex.

Granted, Castiel was a virgin and therefore had never experienced the joys of fucking but good grief, the touch of Dean's breath on his skin and the rumble of his voice slammed Castiel with lust. His dick was instantly hard.

Castiel fidgeted and licked his lips, looking away. Mirroring him, Dean was sitting with his back to the wall, cross-legged. They were partially hidden behind the back of the sofa and Castiel doubted Dean had a good view of the television screen at all.

"Are you ignoring me?" Dean's words were like liquid; they made Castiel shiver.

"I...no, I'm not," Castiel managed to say. Without his permission, he leaned into Dean's warmth. Their arms pressed together and pathetically his cock throbbed. It took so little. How embarrassing.

"You haven't been on MSN..." murmured Dean.

Resolutely keeping his eyes fixed on the television, Castiel gave a half hearted shrug, too afraid to speak. He felt cornered. Dean's proximity was too much pressure for Castiel to take. He had wanted Dean for so long and now that he was close, close enough to touch, Castiel was terrified.

"Cas, look at me." Castiel inhaled sharply when Dean's hand touched his thigh. His eyes darted to it, Dean's face and the rest of the room but everyone else was focused on the movie. He looked back at Dean whose smile had been replaced with a frown. "Can we talk? Outside? Maybe in your room?"

Only because Castiel was expecting his heart to explode from the pressure, did he agree or, more accurately, stand up and leave the room with Dean trailing behind.

"Where are you two sneaking off to?" demanded Gabriel obnoxiously. Castiel didn't bother answering but he heard Dean say something about Sam's broken computer on the way out.

Wordlessly, Castiel led Dean upstairs. He wasn't keen on going to his room but nor did he want to risk Gabriel overhearing Dean rejecting him. His brother would no doubt torture him with it for the rest of his life.

A heavy sigh rolled out of Castiel – more of a pressure release than anything else – and he turned to look at Dean once they were safely shut away in his bedroom.

Dean gazed at him for a moment, surprisingly sheepish. He was probably waiting for Castiel to speak which wasn't going to happen. For a long, painful, minute they stood there staring at one another, tension mounting, until Dean finally opened his mouth. "So... are you okay?"

Castiel's brows drew together. He nodded. "You?" he squeaked.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm...good." Dean cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I just wanted you to know that... I like you too. A lot. I have for awhile and," His cheeks pinked and uncertainty marred his usually confident gaze, "I...would...really like to...uh...take you out? Sometime?"

Castiel stared. He had the peculiar sensation of falling through the air.

Dean laughed awkwardly. "Yeah I tried to tell you on MSN but you left and uh... yeah, so, maybe we could go out sometime like at the weekend or...um—"

"Why?" breathed Castiel.

"I'm sorry?"

Swiping his tongue across his lips, Castiel whispered, "Why?"

"Uh...why what?"

"Why do you want to go out with me?"

"Because I like you," said Dean slowly.

"You like...me," repeated Castiel.

"Yeah," Dean chuckled and it was marginally less awkward than his prior attempt. He moved closer, a small smile on his face, until he was only a breath away. His fingers grazed Castiel's cheek. "It's not rocket science, Cas," he murmured and although Castiel should have expected it when Dean kissed him, it was still a shock.

Dean's lips were soft and gentle and everything he had imagined them to be only better because, this time, it was real.

::-===-::

THE END


End file.
